


Draftbook Drabbles- The Stripper Sting/Law Enforcement AU

by CMW2



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Billy Chambers - Freeform, Cyrus Beene - Freeform, Dominic Bell - Freeform, Draftbook Drabble Series, F/M, Fitz the G-Man/Liv the Stripper, Fitzgerald Grant - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Interracial Relationship, Maya Pope - Freeform, Mellie Grant - Freeform, Mild Kink, Mild S&M, Olitz AU, Olitz awesome domesticness, Olitz being BAMFs, Olitz citrus, Olitz kisses, Olivia Pope - Freeform, Parent-Child Relationship, Parents in Name Only, Rowan Pope - Freeform, Season 1-4 Spoilers and Allusions within, Sting Operation, Trumpetnista, charlie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMW2/pseuds/CMW2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words from the Gladiator in a Hoodie: The Draftbook Drabble project began as a way to brace for impact for the Season 3 finale and then, it became a way to soothe the pain and rage the aforementioned Finale and overall season caused me and others. Since then, it has blossomed into a huge series and I'll be making chapter fics out of the connected one shots to make them easier to find. All works with their individual summaries (and my patented ranting Author's Notes/Episode Reviews) can be found on FFN and on my LiveLoveWRITE Tumblr. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #11-(Fitz, Olivia, Cyrus,** **Eli/Rowan,** **OOC but nothing too extreme, AU, law enforcement sting, protective custody, Olitz, ride or die, mentioned past Olivia/Edison, pre-Olitz becoming Olitz, NSFW)**

****Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"** **

 

 

 

" _Whatever happened to that Edison Davis boy you were dating? The Senator's aide?"_

"We broke up after Christmastime."

" _Why?_ "

"He couldn't get past his hang-ups about my work."

" _Can you really blame him?_ "

"Yes, I really can."

" _Olivia…_ "

"Eli, I'm not having this conversation with you again."

" _You could've come to me for help. You_ _ **should've**_ _come to me for help._ "

"If we had a typical father-daughter relationship, I would've but we don't. Taking money from you would've been like a yoke around my neck that you could tug and make me bend to your will. It would've put me back under your thumb and made me miserable until I found a way to pay you back. No, thank you."

" _What kind of professional future do you expect to have for yourself in this city with that sort of filth attached to you? A simple background check will show everything, not like you care._ "

"I'm not trying to hide it and there's more than one city that I can make a good living in. And what I do is not filth. Eli, I'm not prostituting. I strip dance and I model lingerie. Both fields are legitimate and quite lucrative. I'm at the top of my classes. I don't have any student loans. I can cover my living expenses and I have savings that grow with interest every day. I'm not doing anything wrong so why should I feel ashamed of my choices just because you are?"

" _I'm not ashamed of you. I'm worried about you._ "

"Liar. You don't give a shit about me unless it serves your purposes. It's one of the very few things left that you and Maya have in common: conditional and opportunistic love for your mediocre, wayward daughter."

"… _I'm truly sorry you feel that way, Livvie._ "

"You should be."

"… _are you coming to dinner on Sunday?_ "

"Do I want to spend my Sabbath evening in peaceful, aromatherapy bath filled seclusion watching  **The Cosby Show**  marathon on TVLand or do I want to spend an extended, awkward period of time with my bitterly divorced parents in name only and my bottle blonde, Gordon Ramsey looking, pseudo stepfather at a frou-frou French restaurant as a spectator in your passive aggressive verbal sparring? Tough choice…"

" _A simple 'no' would have sufficed. Very well. I'll pass on your love and greetings to your mother._ "

"Don't waste your breath. Look, I have to go. I'm adding some new moves to my routines and I need to practice them before my shift starts. If you're lucky, some of your comrades at 'the Smithsonian' and on the Hill can show you the highlights on their phones tomorrow."

" _Olivia Carolyn Pope, I_ …"

Having heard enough of Eli Pope's "guidance" and "love", 23 year old Olivia Pope hung up her cell phone and put back in her large tote bag. The Metro had let her off 7 blocks from The Coliseum and she walked with her head up, a confident sway in her gait, and her beloved KA-BAR knife holstered on her left thigh. In the distance, she could see the Washington Monument glowing in the fading sunlight and she shook her head. Washington D.C. was the seat of power in the country but it was a city of contradictions. In one area, it was the quintessential American dream but in others, it was just as run down and dangerous as any other American city, worse even…

The van was still there in the alley.

Olivia had noticed the various vans parked in the same place outside the club immediately. Sometimes they were unmarked, sometimes they looked abandoned, and sometimes they had names of businesses but they had been there every night for the past 3 months. And not only that, the arrival of the vans coincided with the arrival of a new bouncer, called The Gentleman by her and the other girls.

His name tag read 'Patrick' but he had earned his nickname by his actions or rather, his lack of actions. He never copped a feel when he helped them on and off the stage. He never drank or smoked on the job. When he bounced someone, he did it promptly and he didn't do it with the expectation of sex nor had he taken up any of the offers from the girls. Olivia certainly couldn't blame them for trying. The Gentleman was tall, long, and made of pure muscle. His voice was a silken baritone and his eyes…his eyes were kind and summer sky blue. He kept things friendly but utterly professional, prompting the ongoing heated debate amongst the girls about his status: Married, Asexual, or Gay.

Olivia quietly went with a fourth option: Cop and/or Fed.

There was a sting going on and she would not blow his cover because something…something wasn't right.

It had started 6 months ago. The owner of the Club, a Charlie Brown, had brought in a new partner named Billy Chambers and things had changed. The facility itself had been remodeled and it was actually nice now but Charlie had a shorter fuse than before and was jittery. Something illegal definitely was happening. While on stage, Olivia could see mini meetings and subtle money exchanges at the bar. Plus, there was a new girl, an Amanda Tanner who was very, very cuddlesome with Billy. She put on airs a lot but she was also jittery and very careful with her possessions, as if she were hiding something. Most likely, The Coliseum was now a money Laundromat or a factory for something contraband, probably party drugs, really dangerous party drugs…

Olivia wasn't going to dwell on it.

No.

Absolutely not.

She was there to do a job, do it well, and be paid handsomely for it, not to be a Commando or a Vice Dyson.

If something shady was going on, then it would all come out eventually so there was really no need for her to get involved.

Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

She'd leave it to the professionals and would make damned sure that her back was never to the door so she could duck, cover, and run when it all hit the fan.

Because her Gut told her that it was going to hit the fan soon and when it did, it would be spectacular.

Olivia was not going to dwell on it nor was she going to get involved.

No, sir.

Absolutely not.

It wasn't worth the risk to her job or, worse case scenario, her life to get involved or curious.

Although, it really  _ **would**_ be a crying shame if something happened to "Patrick"…

_**/** _

"Cyrus, I think I've been made by one of the performers."

"Which one?"

"Olivia."

"The naughty schoolgirl? It's possible. She's Eli Pope and Maya Lewis' girl. Both of them are brilliant and have a knack for sniffing out bullshit."

"Should I pull out?"

"No. This is actually a good development. We've got footage of the basement pill factory and Tanner making deliveries but the prosecutor wants audio of actual deals being made by Brown, Chambers, and Stanton. We need an inside man…woman to get the bug in the office and Olivia may be just the one. Do you think she can be trusted?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't really interacted with her. She comes in, does her thing, and goes. I've asked about her to the others and they've got nothing more than what she's told them."

"Which is?"

"Her financial aid went awry 18 months ago and while she was able to cover her tuition, everything else was in the air. She worked at a few bars and tutored until she came in for an amateur night at the club. It had been a dare and Brown gave her a job offer. She works at the club and does freelance lingerie modeling as a backup hustle. She's an only child and her parents are divorced, too busy fighting with each other to look after her properly. Other than that, I've got nothing."

"I want you to read her in. Be careful about it."

With a curt nod, 32 year old Special Agent Fitzgerald 'Fitz' Grant III rolled up the window of his black sedan and drove towards The Coliseum 10 blocks away. It was a balmy summer evening in DC and the first of the month. The streets were full of people enjoying the nightlife and he knew that he would be in for a lively shift. The House and Senate were in recess, it was a military pay day, and The Coliseum was a local favorite amongst the gentlemen's club circuit. The drinks were strong, the food was cheap, the performers were beautiful, and most of all, it was the go-to spot for MDMA or Molly, as it was referred to nowadays.

The source was one William 'Billy' James Chambers, a 29 year old hailing from Atlanta, Georgia. The son of a prominent local televangelist and a church choir director, he had grown up with religion and wholesome values shoved down his throat. He had been on track to follow his father's footsteps until he had been accepted to Princeton and had fallen deep into the Rave scene. He had been caught selling prescription pills on campus and had not only been expelled but disowned by his parents. They had sent him 500 dollars, a bible, and a letter saying that they would pray for his fallen soul and if he was ever redeemed, then he could come back to them.

While serving his sentence, he had made contacts and learned how to make the drug himself. Once he was loose, he had gone into business for himself, staying on the move. Charlie Brown and Tom Stanton Jr. had been two of the few friends the man had left after the dust settled and apparently had agreed to go into business with him. 19 year old Amanda 'Mandi' Tanner had been quickly swept off of her feet by Chambers and into the business as a mule. Whether she was willing or not was a mystery but she was a mule and when the time came, she would be arrested and charged, steadfast in her loyalty to Chambers to the end.

Chambers was an elusive snake and actually wanted in connection with two deaths associated with bad product. He had bounced around the Northwestern states and SoCal before coming to the capital to work with his buddy. In return, Brown was able to pay off the substantial amount of gambling debts that had his legitimate business in jeopardy and now, he was connected by circumstance. Brown was a sleaze and an asshole but he had kept things on the straight and narrow until now. When they moved in, he would be the one who would roll on any and everyone to keep his skin intact.

Stanton was likely to flip, too. He had no loyalty to anyone at the end of the day but himself.

Chambers would come out shooting to kill. The rejection by his family, his time in prison, and the mental damage done by using his own drug of choice (Crystal Meth…) made him a volatile cocktail. Volatile cocktails always blew up and would take anyone out with them.

Fitz sincerely hoped that Olivia, more commonly referred to as her stage name of Orchid, would not be taken out in the endgame blast.

Unlike the other performers, she kept a firm but not unkind distance from him. She always had a book with her and would occasionally be seen knitting, usually a scarf or a hat. She stuck to the stage for her routines and had a variety of schoolgirl costumes, ranging from good little Catholic girl to Gothic dominatrix. Her "trademark" solo routine was one involving a big and sturdy chair, a handcuffed man, and Beyonce's  _ **Naughty Girl**_. It was reserved solely for welcome home/departure parties for soldiers and had become a rite of passage, according to his old squadron mate turned flight instructor Jake Ballard.

Also according to him, she was the go-to favorite for a modern day pin up girl. Tiger Lilly was her modeling name and she was usually seen in the same catalogues as Bethany Whisper along with ones for La Perla. She was a striking beauty, petite yet strongly, lushly curved where it counted…

Stepping into the club, Fitz was greeted by the sight of the woman of his thoughts dropping down into a Russian Split. She was already dressed for her shift sans the blazer jacket and he noted the knife holstered on her left thigh with an approving nod. Like the other performers, she carried mace and a whistle but she was always armed with a knife that she was very skilled with. Sometimes, she'd incorporate it into her routines, adding to her popularity…

As soon as their gazes met, Fitz knew that his instincts were spot on. She knew that he was in law enforcement and she knew that he was in the middle of an Op. As if she were responding to his thoughts, she nodded once before miming zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key. Gripping the pole behind her for support, she pulled herself up and walked towards the backstage curtain, a bit of an extra sway in her gait. Getting to it, she looked at him again lingeringly (longingly?) and then disappeared.

_**/** _

**2 Days Later…**

It had happened so fast.

She had seen Tom raise the gun to shoot him and before she could even think, her KA-BAR had gone flying and lodged right in the center of the man's forehead, killing him instantly. Before Charlie or Billy could react, she had turned off the lights and yanked the nearby fire alarm. There had been a scuffle and then the sound of two men running into the tables full of product and equipment. Running footsteps came to her and yanked her up the stairs, "Patrick" hustling them through the fleeing crowd and outside in the early morning. They had kept a brisk pace, her bag thumping against her jean clad leg (thankfully, she had gotten out of costume before she had stumbled upon the scene in the basement, wanting to say goodbye to "Patrick" before going home) and ended up by the Reflecting Pool. Someone in the Van must've reported the situation because a black federal SUV had pulled up and they had gotten in, driving to the J. Edgar Hoover building.

Icy shock had set in by the time she had ended up in a conference room teeming with all sorts of agents and it had stolen her voice, made her hear things as if she were underwater…

"… _ **still in pursuit of Brown and Chambers…Tanner surrendered peacefully…"**_

"… _ **got the audio and the DEA is ready to…"**_

"… _ **.damned good throw for a civilian…military precision…"**_

"… _ **PC for both of you…moving you ASAP…preparing a route out of town…**_ **"**

" _PC means Protective Custody, doesn't it?_ "

The chatter in the room ceased and "Patrick" that she now knew was Special Agent Fitzgerald Grant III (The Gentleman was the son of one of the most notorious pigs in American politics…the irony was biting!) came to the corner she had quietly claimed. Carefully, he knelt down to the floor and she curled tighter within herself as he brushed some hair out of her tear stained face. She was shaking from cold and from nerves, her voice husky and soft from lack of use and from weeping. She hadn't stopped crying since they got to the Hoover Building.

"It does. It's only until Brown and Chambers are off of the street."

" _D-Do I have to go away by myself? I don't want to be alone right now…_ "

"No, I'll be going with you. We're about to send a team to your place to collect some essentials for you. Is there anything specific you'd like or need?"

" _I-I have an emergency duffel bag packed underneath my bed and there's a safe hidden in the bottom drawer of my dresser underneath a false bottom. The combination is 1-31-91 and there's about 8200 dollars in there, along with my important documents. And I need my laptop so I can finish my school essays a-and I want all of my blankets. And don't forget the big Tupperware container of shea butter underneath the bathroom sink. I made it myself and I'd like to keep it._ "

"Okay. Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink?"

" _I'll probably just throw it up but you can get me something if you want to…I…I_ _ **k-killed**_ _someone…he was gonna kill you and me afterwards but still…I never want to see that knife again…y-you guys can keep it…_ "

"Is there anyone you want to get in contact with? A trusted friend, your parents…"

Olivia snorted rudely at that last suggestion and replied, " _Like they'd care. Knowing Eli, he'd say that if I had only listened to him and quit dancing, then I wouldn't be in the situation to begin with and Maya's too busy sucking Dominic's cock to care about anything, including her precious, stripping, murdering daughter. They can hear about it on the news like everyone else. And I don't have friends, not real ones who would actually miss me, anyway._ "

That was a good thing, she supposed. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to get hurt or murdered just for being connected to her. With a soft sniffle, she stood up slowly and walked with him towards the elevator.

Olivia was 23 years old and not only had she actually killed someone, she was about to be on the run from drug dealers with one of the most inwardly and outwardly attractive men she had ever met. It was something out of a Lifetime movie but it was her life, a life that could've and should've been taken hours before but hadn't.

All things considering, life could be much worse.

_**/** _

"You saved my life."

"You saved mine first."

"Still…"

"Olivia…"

" _Shh_ …"

Her lips were silky soft and warm, tasting of the strawberry jam she had eaten straight out of the jar earlier. The hotel room was small but clean, the space taken up mainly by the bed. They had driven until sundown, ending up about 30 minutes outside of Atlanta. Brown had been caught around noon but Chambers was still on the loose and out for blood before being taken down. The tap on his cell phone recorded him demanding a piece of "the little chocolate bitch" before she was killed by his contact, a contact that had promptly sold him out in order for reduced charges in his own drug smuggling operation.

Brown had been caught in the process of searching and trashing her apartment. Amanda Tanner was eagerly spilling her guts and would be put into PC herself so she could testify at the trials. Olivia had expressed her willingness to testify as well and in response, Cyrus had assigned him to her until further notice. After all, Fitz was in danger as well and Olivia would be more likely to remain in their care if she was with someone she knew, someone she respected, someone she…

" _We can't…_ "

" _We_ _ **can**_ _…I want to…don't you want to?_ "

" _Yes, but…_ "

" _But, nothing. We are consenting adults and…well, I'm thinking that we met for a reason. There's something between us and I want to explore it. Maybe I'm wrong…_ "

"… _you're not wrong._ "

Turning on the bedside lamp, Fitz met her guileless amber sienna gaze and felt something shift in his heart as she reached up to stroke his bare shoulder. Gently grabbing her delicate wrists, he put them on the pillow beneath her head and Olivia slowly swiveled her generous hips, sending a hot pulse of need into his Gut. She had on a pale pink balconette bra and he kissed the swells of her breasts, relishing her softness. Her hands went to the waistband of his white boxers and pulled them down swiftly, a hand wrapping around his tumid cock immediately. Her bra and thong were quickly removed and he held her hips down to keep her from thrusting up onto him.

" _ **Mmm**_ … _slow down, Livvie…we've got all night_ …"

She shook her head and tried to get on top of him, making him place a hand over her abdomen and press her firmly into the mattress. A flash of defiance went through her eyes, despite them being slumberous with desire and in response…

A shuddering sigh of delight escaped his lover and he curled the digits in a beckoning motion, making her squirm.

" _ **Mmmm**_ …"

" _I want to make you feel good, sweetheart._ _ **I want to be the best you've ever had**_ …"

" _Make me feel good, baby…_ _ **please**_ …"

" _You'll stay where I put you?_ "

" _Uh-huh_ …"

" _ **You'll take what I'll give you?**_ "

" _ **Mmmm**_ … _oh, my god!_ "

" _You feel delicious, Olivia…makes me want to know if you taste delicious...do you want me to find out?_ "

" _ **Yes!**_ "

His lips made a perfect 'O' and latched onto her dripping pussy, his tongue dipping into her. Olivia yelped and Fitz growled happily at the taste of her. Her flavor was enchanting and he wanted more. Moving his hands to the juncture where her legs and torso met, he spread the strong limbs wide and buried his face between her legs. Her fingers went into his hair and she was moaning and gasping his name, begging for more of his tongue and fingers…

_**/** _

" _ **Ahhh!"**_

" _That's it, sweetheart…let go…come for me, again…"_

" _I c-can't…too much, too good, too…_ _ **Fitz-ger-** **ald!** "_

Olivia convulsed underneath him and whimpered as he continued his driving rhythm inside her, pushing her to heights that she had never experienced before. His tongue alone had exhausted her, ruined her but when he joined with her, it had been shattering. He was long, thick, and burning hot inside her. All she could do was scream and spread her legs as wide as they would go. Currently, her legs were over his shoulders and one of Fitz's hands rested upon her neck, the other being used for leverage.

"Oh,  _ **fuck!**_ "

Olivia keened as another climax singed her nerve endings and the hand on her neck gathered a fist full of her hair, her legs dropping to his sides. Her knees were drawn up almost to her breasts and Fitz moved fully on top of her, kissing her with blistering passion and force.

" _ **Fitz**_ …" she sighed dreamily, her head spinning with sexual and emotional fulfillment…

" **Mine** _ **…**_ _you're_ _ **mine,**_ _Olivia Pope_ …" he rasped into her ear as he slowed to a deep fluid grind.

When Edison said things like that, she felt trapped or angry but hearing possessiveness from Fitz was very much to her liking because she knew that it was a two-way street. She was his and he was all hers.

"… _so beautiful…so sweet and tight…so warm…so good…_ _ **mmmm**_ …"

Olivia cooed as his climax snaked through him and shivered with each impact of his hips against hers, each hard grunt, each husky moan, and each shudder of bliss that went through his body…

" _Oh,_ _ **god**_ …"

" _Did I make you feel good, baby? Did you like being inside me?_ "

"… _so good…best I've ever…god, Livvie,_ _ **yes**_ …"

His whole body went supple against hers and he nuzzled her shoulder. Clicking off the bedside lamp, Olivia wrapped her arms around him and pressed a tender kiss to his brow. Fitz's arms wrapped around hers and the both of them sighed, the now bare mattress creaking as they settled amongst the tangled bedding. The afterglow set in and sank deep into her bones, her spirit…her still troubled and guilty spirit…

" _Is it wrong to feel this good after what I did?_ "

" _No. Olivia, you faced death today and lived. Yes, you took a life but you also saved not only my life but the lives of those who were going to get that product._ "

" _It was a bad batch?_ "

" _No, it wasn't but still, someone could've been hurt on a bad trip or gotten strung out._ "

" _True…I still feel bad, though._ "

"' _S okay. It makes you human._ " he assured her before yawning softly.

Although it was just past 8 o clock in the evening, the day had been so long that it felt like midnight.

" _You're tired. I'm keeping you awake…_ "

" _I don't mind staying awake to talk to you. Even with everything that's gone on between us, I don't really know you that well..._ "

Olivia glanced down at his strong left leg thrown over her thighs and the greedy handful of breast he was holding before giving him a dubious look, complete with a raised eyebrow. Fitz chuckled and conceded her point with an incline of his head.

" _Still, knowing someone sexually is very different than knowing someone's personality._ "

" _Point. What do you want to know about me?_ "

" _Whatever you're comfortable with telling me. Like I said earlier, we've got all night…_ "

_**/** _

**Five Hours Later…**

" _Baby?_ "

"Stay still, Olivia. Get my back up weapon out of the nightstand and stay still."

"Did you call for backup? Who is it?"

"I did. They're 5 minutes out…it's Chambers himself."

"Billy-boy's always been crazy and it's not like he's got anything to lose anymore. What are you doing?"

"I'm going out there."

"Not by yourself."

"Olivia…"

"Fitzgerald, I think I've proven that I can take care of you and myself quite nicely when it counts. Just ask Tom Stanton."

"I can't. He's dead."

" _ **Exactly.**_ "

"…if you're going out there in a sheet, then at least put your panties back on first."

As she did so, Fitz buckled his pants and undid the safety of his gun. Looking out the window, he saw Chambers ascending the right staircase of the hotel's upper level, looking crazed but resolute with a gun in his hand. He had been right. Chambers was ready to either shoot his way to freedom or to the grave and he didn't care who went with him.

He would not be taking Olivia with him.

Looking at her, she nodded and he opened the door, leveling a gun at Chambers' chest as soon as he got to the top of the stairs.

"FBI, Billy. Drop the weapon."

"Big bad Fed thinks he can tell me what to do, huh?"

"Big bad Fed  _ **knows**_ that he can tell you what to do. Drop the weapon or I'll drop you. It's over."

"Is that chocolate bitch still with you? I _ **knew**_  you had a hard on for her. 'The Gentleman', Mandi and the other whores called you. You weren't very gentleman like when you'd watch her performances. A few times Chuck and I thought you would get up on that stage and fuck her for everyone to see but you didn't…until tonight. Seems like little Liv-Liv likes to bite…"

Chambers was so focused on him, he neglected to notice her until it was too late.

"Where did you get a taser from?"

"I bought it with my first modeling check. Are you okay?"

"Never better."

Both of them watched as SUVs pulled in with lights and sirens on and Olivia looked up at him impishly as an unconscious Chambers was hauled downstairs, their mutual state of undress pointedly ignored by the responding agents.

"Hell of a couple of days, huh?"

"You could say that. Go back to bed. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

"Be quick about it. Saving the day actually makes me quite horny…and hungry. Is that weird?"

"No. It's a response to adrenaline rush and come down."

"Good. Go and talk to your boss. I want a PB&J sandwich and then I want your cock."

Taken aback (and more than a little turned on) by her bluntness, Fitz watched as she went back into their room and sighed fondly in her wake, heading down to an impatient looking Cyrus.

His assignment was over but his life with Olivia Pope was just getting started.

He was looking forward to it.


	2. Chapter 2

**(CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #15- (Follow up to D.D. #11- Fitz, Olivia, Eli/Rowan, Maya, Dominic, OOC but nothing too extreme, AU, law enforcement sting aftermath, mentioned established Olitz, Pope Parents in Name Only Battle Royale, Pope family dynamics)**

****Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"** **

 

 

**Excerpt from Draftbook Drabble #11**

_"…_ _you could've come to me for help. You_ **_should've_ ** _come to me for help._ _"_

_"If we had a typical father-daughter relationship, I would've but we don't. Taking money from you would've been like a yoke around my neck that you could tug and make me bend to your will. It would've put me back under your thumb and made me miserable until I found a way to pay you back. No, thank you."_

_"_ _What kind of professional future do you expect to have for yourself in this city with that sort of filth attached to you? A simple background check will show everything, not like you care._ _"_

_"I'm not trying to hide it and there's more than one city that I can make a good living in. And what I do is not filth. Eli, I'm not prostituting. I strip dance and I model lingerie. Both fields are legitimate and quite lucrative. I'm at the top of my classes. I don't have any student loans. I can cover my living expenses and I have savings that grow with interest every day. I'm not doing anything wrong so why should I feel ashamed of my choices just because you are?"_

_"_ _I'm not ashamed of you. I'm worried about you._ _"_

_"Liar. You don't give a shit about me unless it serves your purposes. It's one of the very few things left that you and Maya have in common: conditional and opportunistic love for your mediocre, wayward daughter…"_

… _His name tag read 'Patrick' but he had earned his nickname by his actions or rather, his lack of actions. He never copped a feel when he helped them on and off the stage. He never drank or smoked on the job. When he bounced someone, he did it promptly and he didn't do it with the expectation of sex nor had he taken up any of the offers from the girls. Olivia certainly couldn't blame them for trying. The Gentleman was tall, long, and made of pure muscle. His voice was a silken baritone and his eyes…his eyes were kind and summer sky blue. He kept things friendly but utterly professional, prompting the ongoing heated debate amongst the girls about his status: Married, Asexual, or Gay._

_Olivia quietly went with a fourth option: Cop and/or Fed._

_There was a sting going on and she would not blow his cover because something…something wasn't right…_

"… _Cyrus, I think I've been made by one of the performers."_

_"Which one?"_

_"Olivia."_

_"The naughty schoolgirl? It's possible…"_

… _as soon as their gazes met, Fitz knew that his instincts were spot on. She knew that he was in law enforcement and she knew that he was in the middle of an Op. As if she were responding to his thoughts, she nodded once before miming zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key. Gripping the pole behind her for support, she pulled herself up and walked towards the backstage curtain, a bit of an extra sway in her gait. Getting to it, she looked at him again lingeringly (longingly?) and then disappeared…_

"… _PC means Protective Custody, doesn't it?_ _"_

_The chatter in the room ceased and "Patrick" that she now knew was Special Agent Fitzgerald Grant III (The Gentleman was the son of one of the most notorious pigs in American politics…the irony was biting!) came to the corner she had quietly claimed. Carefully, he knelt down to the floor and she curled tighter within herself as he brushed some hair out of her tear stained face. She was shaking from cold and from nerves, her voice husky and soft from lack of use and from weeping. She hadn't stopped crying since they got to the Hoover Building._

_"It does. It's only until Brown and Chambers are off of the street."_

_"_ _D-Do I have to go away by myself? I don't want to be alone right now…_ _"_

_"No, I'll be going with you…"_

_"…FBI, Billy. Drop the weapon."_

_"Big bad Fed thinks he can tell me what to do, huh?"_

_"Big bad Fed_ **_knows_ ** _that he can tell you what to do. Drop the weapon or I'll drop you. It's over."_

_"Is that chocolate bitch still with you? I_ **_knew_ ** _you had a hard on for her. 'The Gentleman', Mandi and the other whores called you. You weren't very gentleman like when you'd watch her performances. A few times Chuck and I thought you would get up on that stage and fuck her for everyone to see but you didn't…until tonight. Seems like little Liv-Liv likes to bite…"_

_Chambers was so focused on him, he neglected to notice her until it was too late._

_"Where did you get a taser from?"_

_"I bought it with my first modeling check. Are you okay?"_

_"Never better."_

_Both of them watched as SUVs pulled in with lights and sirens on and Olivia looked up at him impishly as an unconscious Chambers was hauled downstairs, their mutual state of undress pointedly ignored by the responding agents._

_"Hell of a couple of days, huh?"_

_"You could say that. Go back to bed. I'll be with you in a few minutes."_

_"Be quick about it. Saving the day actually makes me quite horny…and hungry. Is that weird?"_

_"No. It's a response to adrenaline rush and come down."_

_"Good. Go and talk to your boss. I want a PB &J sandwich and then I want your cock."_

_Taken aback (and more than a little turned on) by her bluntness, Fitz watched as she went back into their room and sighed fondly in her wake, heading down to an impatient looking Cyrus._

_His assignment was over but his life with Olivia Pope was just getting started._

_He was looking forward to it…_

* * *

 

**2 Days Later…**

"… _you dragged me through hell and high water for 6 years to get full time custody of her and then, you didn't bother to look after her properly after you got it! What kind of father_ _ **are**_ _you?! Look at the danger she ended up in! Look at her lifestyle! Look at her livelihood! For Christ's sake, Eli, our baby had to murder one drug dealer and tazer gun another just to make it to sundown! She could've died or been raped or god knows what else!_ _ **Where the hell were you?!**_ _"_

" _I know what danger and lifestyle she's gotten into, Maya! I did the best I could in raising her and if you had actually taken the Vows we took seriously, then I wouldn't have…"_

" _Oh, you've_ _ **got**_ _to be kidding me! I never cheated on you! You cheated on me with your damned almighty job and had the nerve to be shocked when I got sick of coming in second! I wanted to take Livvie with me but, no…no, the Great Eli Pope had to soothe his precious ego at the expense of the daughter he claims to adore!"_

" _The Mother of the Century is standing here lecturing me when she hasn't even been in the country for more than 5 minutes to see her in the last 4 years! That's_ _ **rich!**_ _"_

" _You live in the same city and there haven't been any daddy-daughter lunches, have they? She barely talks to you! She's probably just as sick of your mouth and ways as I ended up being, you smug sanctimonious piece of…_ "

The intercom was cut off but even through the thick two way glass, the arguing was audible and the rookie agent in the room looked sorely tempted to discharge his weapon. Whether a bullet would go into the combatants or his own head to escape the tempest remained to be seen. With an incredulous shake of his head, 32 year old Special Agent Fitzgerald "Fitz" Grant III looked down at the dispassionately watching woman next to him.

"Do they argue like this often?"

With an exasperated huff, 23 year old Olivia Pope took her sour apple blow pop out of her scarlet painted mouth and met his concerned gaze head on.

"Only all of the time…don't worry. Dominic will come back from the loo and he'll distract Maya with his crumpet fuelled animal magnetism and Eli will sit down at the head of the table to pout. Well, he'll drink from his cup of black coffee and pretend to be unaffected by the lusty loving interracial couple that sickens him with impotent jealousy but he'll be pouting. You can always tell by his eyes…"

"I thought you said that they didn't care about you."

"Oh, they do but not in any normal parenting context. They care about me because I am a pox upon their reputations. I'm a top student. I'm sitting on a 4.0 GPA and have been since I was 12. I'm kicking poli-sci and law ass at Georgetown but instead of doing something respectable like file filing at ACME Paper or slinging Ol' Bess burgers at Gettysburger like a normal college student in crippling debt, I work the pole like a champ and put on silky little naughty things for glossy catalogues to cover my various expenses. I don't hide what I do and people side eye them for my professional choices all the time, especially since I'm one of the top 5 strippers in the area. Why aren't they taking care of me? They're both healthy. Both of them come from money and made quite a bit of it in their heydays. Why isn't their only daughter comfortable enough to take money from them and why are they so distant with me publicly? Don't they love me? Don't they care about me and my safety? The answer is a very firm 'no' to both questions but god forbid that anyone with power and influence knows that awful truth…the boarding school counselors that I was required to go during their various custody melees said that I did rebellious shit in order to get their attention and I guess there's still a ring of truth to it today. If I have a choice, I'd rather have them pissed off at me than for them to look right through me, y'know?"

The door opened and Dominic Bell was escorted into the observation area, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but in the J. Edgar Hoover building but to his credit, there was genuine concern in the blonde man's blue eyes, genuine warmth.

"Hey, Dominic. They're still fighting."

"I know. You can hear their yelling all the way at the elevator. Er, I…if you need to come with your Mum and I back to London for a bit, you can. The door's always open and you've been through hell, Olivia. If you need a break…"

"Thanks for the offer but I'll be okay. I still need to find a permanent place to live and I start my new job on Friday night."

"Are you going to continue with your strip dancing? I mean, if you are, it's okay. There's nothing wrong with it…"

"There's a gym near the Hill that offers aerobic dance classes of all sorts. As many bored housewives and politicians' side chicks roaming around this glorious nation's capital, I'm sure that Pole Dancing for Fun and Health will be a smash hit. You better get in there and calm Maya down. She looks about two seconds away from plunging a stirrer through Eli's eyeball and that would be one hell of a carpet cleaning bill, don't you think? Matter of fact, let's just get this over with. I don't know why you guys let them in, anyways…"

_**/** _

Olivia could feel Maya and Eli evaluating her appearance as she came into the interrogation turned waiting room. She had put on a snow white mid sleeved top, dark wash skinny jeans, and a pair of high heeled Timberland lace up boots that went to just below her knees. Her hair was in its trademark Orchid the Schoolgirl style of two messy ponytails, secured by American flag bows and she had gone heavy with her smoky eyes. Her lips were a defiant shade of scarlet red and her lollypop was still in her mouth being gently suckled.

One of her most popular pin-up Tiger Lilly pictures involved her in a white lingerie set covered in multicolored lollypops, surrounded by pink cotton candy clouds.

Maya made the first move and Olivia gamely accepted her hug. Her mother looked good. Her hair was softly waved and was graying gracefully, the streaks in her hair catching the light nicely. She had on a color block gray and sky blue wrap dress, along with a pair of black pumps. A snow white trench coat that had been draped over her chair was now folded over Dominic's forearm and the white diamond jewelry she had on sparkled in the fluorescents.

"My poor baby…I'm sorry you had to go through all of that, Livvie…"

"I'm all right. Fitz made sure that I was well taken care of and there's going to be justice served."

"Still…you killed someone…"

"I didn't want Tom Stanton to kill my friend or myself. It had to be done."

"I guess you're right…are you just going to sit there or are you going to hug our daughter, Eli?"

Her father looked tired. He usually looked tired and there was a lot more than streaks of gray in his short hair. He was in a tailored three piece black suit, a crisp white shirt, and she could see herself in the black leather of his shoes. The only jewelry he had on was a Rolex and his cufflinks. Instead of hugging her, Eli rested a tender hand on her cheek and she looked at him head on, showing no fear as he had drilled into her head over and over again…

"Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Good."

As if the three of them had coordinated it, they broke off and went to their claimed places. Maya was next to Dominic (as usual), Eli was sitting at the head of the table, and Olivia was standing in the corner nearest to the two way window. She bit down on the last bit of her sucker and blew a bright pink bubble, letting it pop with a snap.

"Why are you two here?"

"Livvie, you were on the news. Your job was on the news and neither of us had heard from you. Your father and I were worried about you so we came here to get answers from you personally."

"Okay. Well, in short: my boss was part of an Ecstasy manufacturing and distribution point. The FBI put the club under surveillance. I met Fitz who I didn't know for sure was a Fed until a few days ago…"

"Did he tell you?"

"No, but it made the most sense. There was a parade of vans going in and out of the Alley and he wasn't like the other bouncers. He remembered our names. He didn't cop a feel. He stayed sober. He didn't sleep with anyone or even try to…it was Married, Gay, Asexual, or Fed. He didn't have a ring on nor did I ever see him hide one and trust me, the way I caught him looking at me as I did my thing assured me that not only was his libido at full throttle, he's as straight as parallel lines. Anyway, Fitz got made somehow and Tom Stanton was going to shoot him. I had come down to the basement to say goodbye to him at the end of my shift like I usually did. I saw Tom raise the gun and I put my knife through his forehead. Afterwards, Fitz and I went out of town to get away from the heat and when Billy-Boy Chambers found us, we took him down together. He's awaiting trial with Upchuck and Mandi and will likely be locked up for at minimum 10 years. And we all lived happily ever after. The end. Anymore questions?"

"Did you have sex with Special Agent Grant?"

"I did, Eli. I had fully consensual, slightly kinky, wonderful sex with him that I intend to keep having with him as long as he's willing to indulge me."

"Will his superiors have a problem with it?"

"I didn't initiate the sex until we were on the run. He didn't sleep with me to get Intel on the operation. He didn't sleep with anyone in The Coliseum, not for lack of trying on some of the girls' parts. I'm well above the age of consent and he's a grown ass man who's obviously good at his job. As long as I stay on the right side of the law, they shouldn't have a problem with me being around him in his bedroom and out of it…but  _ **you**_  do, Eli. Why?"

"He's a Grant man. Their reputations are less than stellar when it comes to their relationships and romps with women. I don't want to see you hurt."

"I see…Maya, do you share his opinion?"

"Well, honestly, yes but…at the end of the day, it's your life, baby. I definitely wish you would consider getting into another line of work but as long as you're safe and happy and you graduate on time, you can do whatever and whoever you want to do. And he seems to be a nice boy…"

" _ **Maya!**_ "

"Eli, she's going to do whatever she damned well pleases anyway! It's the stupid pride she got from you and the goddamned stubbornness she got from me! There's no use in trying to control her because all that's going to do is shut her ears and she'll cut us out completely! Is that what you want? It's bad enough having to constantly explain that our daughter has so little faith in us that she willingly gets on a pole and half naked in front of a camera to pay her bills! Do you really want to explain to your minions and comrades why we're not at her wedding or why we only see our grandchildren through photographs? I don't! For once in your life, just let things be what they'll be! You can't control everything! You can't fix everything!"

"I'm not trying to…"

" _ **Yes, you are! You always are and what good does it do?!**_  One would think that…"

As the second round of arguing began between her parents, Olivia gave Dominic a polite nod before making her retreat. Fitz was waiting in the corridor and the door closed behind her with a soft click.

"Now, do you understand why I'm not exactly sane?"

"I'm beginning to. Your mother seems like she's had an epiphany about her relationship with you."

"She did just turn 50 last September. Looking back and seeing a half century gone can cause anyone to become introspective and self aware. Maybe she's wanted to reconnect with me for a while and what happened at the Club was her opening. If she's still feeling like that after the dust settles completely, then I'll meet her halfway. Life's too short and fragile to hold on to resentment and really, if I'm going to have a viable relationship with a parent, it's likely going to be with Maya. The only thing that's going to pry Eli's head out of his ass is a stick of TNT…or a back alley lobotomy."


	3. Chapter 3

**(CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #19- (Follow up to D.D.s #11 and 15- Fitz, Olivia, Mellie, Cyrus, OOC but nothing too extreme, AU, law enforcement sting aftermath, established Olitz, one sided Mellitz Zombie))**

****Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"** **

 

 

**Excerpt from Draftbook Drabble #15**

_"Are you going to continue with your strip dancing? I mean, if you are, it's okay. There's nothing wrong with it…"_

_"There's a gym near the Hill that offers aerobic dance classes of all sorts. As many bored housewives and politicians' side chicks roaming around this glorious nation's capital, I'm sure that Pole Dancing for Fun and Health will be a smash hit._ _.."_

_"…why are you two here?"_

_"Livvie, you were on the news. Your job was on the news and neither of us had heard from you. Your father and I were worried about you so we came here to get answers from you personally."_

_"Okay. Well, in short: my boss was part of an Ecstasy manufacturing and distribution point. The FBI put the club under surveillance. I met Fitz who I didn't know for sure was a Fed until a few days ago…"_

_"Did he tell you?"_

_"No, but it made the most sense. There was a parade of vans going in and out of the Alley and he wasn't like the other bouncers. He remembered our names. He didn't cop a feel. He stayed sober. He didn't sleep with anyone or even try to…it was Married, Gay, Asexual, or Fed. He didn't have a ring on nor did I ever see him hide one and trust me, the way I caught him looking at me as I did my thing assured me that not only was his libido at full throttle, he's as straight as parallel lines. Anyway, Fitz got made somehow and Tom Stanton was going to shoot him. I had come down to the basement to say goodbye to him at the end of my shift like I usually did. I saw Tom raise the gun and I put my knife through his forehead. Afterwards, Fitz and I went out of town to get away from the heat and when Billy-Boy Chambers found us, we took him down together. He's awaiting trial with Upchuck and Mandi and will likely be locked up for at minimum 10 years. And we all lived happily ever after. The end. Anymore questions?"_

_"Did you have sex with Special Agent Grant?"_

_"I did, Eli. I had fully consensual, slightly kinky, wonderful sex with him that I intend to keep having with him as long as he's willing to indulge me."_

_"Will his superiors have a problem with it?"_

_"I didn't initiate the sex until we were on the run. He didn't sleep with me to get Intel on the operation. He didn't sleep with anyone in The Coliseum, not for lack of trying on some of the girls' parts. I'm well above the age of consent and he's a grown ass man who's obviously good at his job. As long as I stay on the right side of the law, they shouldn't have a problem with me being around him in his bedroom and out of it…"_

* * *

 

"What the hell are  _ **you**_ doing here?"

"You agreed to meet with me, AntebellumAngel89. I told you that I had some invaluable and downright salacious information about Olivia Pope and you pounced on it since your formal inquiries yielded nothing new or nasty. You do realize that using federal databases to look into me without probable cause is a direct violation of FBI policy and could result in you losing your badge? I mean, I guess you could say that you were doing it out of the blanket excuse of 'national security' but when it comes to me, the only security danger I can think of is the POTUS keeling over in the Oval while choking the chicken to my Naughty Domestic Goddess portfolio. My favorite shot from it is the one where I'm a sundae for Sunday dinner but the one where I'm washing windows in a lacy bustier and star spangled thong is a popular one with the troops."

"You…you tricked me into coming here. This is entrapment!"

"How is enabling you to make a jealous ass out of yourself entrapment? Do you see any law enforcement around? This is just between me and you. Look, Mellie…I know that you want Fitz. Everyone knows you've after him like he's free Prada since you two were in the FBI Academy together. Everyone also knows that he doesn't even like you, much less want to be in a relationship with you. If he did, he would be sleeping naked in your cold bed instead of in the warm one he shares with me down the street. We're living together full time now. It's too fast in theory but it works damned well in execution."

"He deserves better than some pole dancing, barely legal, foul mouthed little slut! He's a Grant man and…"

"If you know the truth about Grant men, then you know that I'm perfect for him. They absolutely  _ **adore**_  an intelligent, foul mouthed, big bootyed broad that can work a pole and I'm not a slut. I've only been in one relationship other than Fitz and I don't have sex unless I'm in a relationship with a guy. And even if I was a slut, who gives a fuck? It's my body and I can do whoever and whatever I damned well please with it. Get over it and yourself. As for my age, I just turned 24 last month. Fitz took me salsa dancing and then he kept me in bed for the rest of weekend. You know how some folks do birthday tequila shots or birthday spanks with one to grow on? Fitz decided to use that principle with his tongue and my orgasms. Tell me something, Mellie: is it Grant political or literal capital that you're after? You're SOL either way but especially with the former. He says that he'll shoot his balls off before he runs for any sort of public Office and given how much he enjoys having his balls where I can easily enjoy them, I don't think he was joking."

"I genuinely care about him!"

"You're lying. If you aren't, tough shit. He's mine, I don't share, and I'm not giving him up anytime soon. I'm not going to turn you in to your superiors and I'm not even going to kick your ass, even though your actions certainly merit it. You're just not worth the time or the effort to me…or to Fitz, obviously. He graduated from the FBI Academy in 2000. It's been damned near 15 years and you haven't even gotten a kiss on the cheek from him but here you are in 2015, still thirsty and cyber snooping only to end up in front of his live in girlfriend at 2:39AM like a lame ass loser. If the situation wasn't so sad, I'd laugh."

"I don't need your goddamned pity!"

"I'm not giving you my goddamned pity. You should go now. Stop sniffing around me and Fitz and get your life. They don't let just anyone waltz in off the street and become an FBI agent. You've got to have some serious brains and balls. You're loaded and although your attitude is more than a little shitty, you're a knockout physically. You really are. If I were into women and sickly sweet manipulative evil, I'd be after you like white on rice. But, I'm not into you and Fitz certainly isn't into you. There are over 7 billion folks on the planet. I promise you that there is at least one person out there that would want you or wants you right now. Go and find them. Get to know them. Get off with them. It might help you feel better. The next time we have to have something like this conversation will definitely be in front of your superiors. Once I am in front of them, I will make sure that your badge will be used to dislodge the many icicles up your ass. Tonight, you get a free pass and a free read for filth. Take them, learn from them, and go home."

The expression on Mellie Vaughn's face was all too familiar to Olivia Pope. She had seen it throughout the years on various bullies' faces. It was an expression of impotent anger. They had been outmaneuvered and had no choice but to retreat away from her. Olivia kept her face absolutely neutral as the incensed woman flounced back to her SUV and with a screech of tires, she was out of the parking garage like a bat out of hell. Shivering against the February draft, Olivia entered her own SUV and calmly drove back home.

_**/** _

"…I don't know whether I should strangle you or kiss you."

"If I had a C-Note for every time someone said that to me, you and I could retire right now and move to Rio de Janiero or Bali or someplace that's never seen snow in all its variants."

" _ **Livvie**_ …"

"If she had gotten too crazy, I would've read you in. She was just a minor annoyance and she didn't do anything to hurt me. Of course, she called me a couple of the usual nasty names but that's nothing I haven't heard while I'm out and about, especially when I'm on campus. Usually they come from "enlightened" black men who see my work as my singlehandedly setting black people back 50 years but occasionally, there will be an under the covers racist. Those come in all shapes and sizes."

"Under the covers racist?"

"They hate black people, black women specifically but if they had the chance, they'd fuck one just to say that they did it and they're not racist because they did it. Not to mention, they all have that one black friend that doesn't get offended about every little thing they say and do. We just all need to stop playing the race card blame game and evolve into a post racial utopia. Then, we shall have peace and harmony in America and on earth."

"That's…"

"…bullshit but it is what it is. Fitz, as long as there's racial and cultural diversity, there's going to be ignorance and outright stupidity on some people's parts. The best things to do is to not let it get you down and to shut it down whenever possible."

Fitz Grant III absorbed that and watched as she took another drink of water. Olivia had met him in the lobby of the J. Edgar Hoover building at high noon and all eyes had gone to her immediately. Her cowl necked jersey dress was snow white, nearly glowing in the sunlight. Her winter's coat was a rich scarlet with gold buttons and her knee high black boots were lined with fur with silver stilettos and buckles. What stood out the most was the smile on her face as she hugged him hello. God, she was so gorgeous…

Her actions at The Coliseum had not only saved his life and the sting, she had been critical on the stand. Her testimony had put not just Chambers and Brown away for 15-17 years but had opened a can of worms that encompassed the whole Eastern Seaboard. Olivia's bravery had inspired other exotic dancers and bartenders to speak up in their clubs and there were about 10 cases pending ranging from drug distribution to in a case in Manhattan, human trafficking via Eastern Europe.

Her pole dancing classes had become a hit around the political part of town. Apparently, politician's wives (and girlfriends) wanted to bring sexy back in 2014 and Olivia's classes were perfect for it. She charged 15 bucks a head for 2 hours, 5 days a week. As always, people recognized her from her Orchid the Schoolgirl performances and her Tiger Lilly photoshoots…

"Liv, about Mellie…"

"I'm not worried about her. You haven't given me a reason to be worried about her or any other woman sniffing around you and I know there are plenty. All Mellie can really do is put me on blast for Orchid and Tiger Lilly, which isn't going to work because I've always been open about it. No one really lingers around a potential sex scandal when the person involved isn't trying to run and hide, even in this city."

One of the things he appreciated most about Olivia was how levelheaded she could be. Fitz knew that he could be impulsive and hot tempered, especially when it came to protecting who and what he cared about so having a counterbalance was great. Not to say that Olivia didn't have her own moments but they were rare. He also appreciated her sense of humor. It was dark and twisted but not in a malicious way. She possessed a self awareness and confidence that was magnetic to him. All of his life, he had been surrounded by people who put on airs, who had facades for every occasion, and who never owned up to any sort of weakness. Olivia was unrepentantly, unabashedly herself at all times, publicly and privately.

"I like your office, by the way."

"So do I. It's a little small but it's better than working in the bullpen. I could do with less paperwork, though."

"You and every other person in this building.", Cyrus Beene said from the doorway, getting both of their attentions immediately.

"What do you need, Cy?"

"I heard that Ms. Pope was in the building and I need to talk to her."

"Talk to me about what?"

"A job offer."


	4. Chapter 4

**(** **CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #24- (Follow up to #11, 15, and 19- Fitz, Olivia, nonB613!Russell, Cyrus, Mellie, OOC but nothing too extreme, AU, law enforcement sting aftermath AKA Stripper Sting, established Olitz, mentioned past Olivia/Edison, one sided Mellitz Zombie, and one sided Olivia/Russell, NSFW))**

****Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"** **

 

 

 

**Excerpt from Draftbook Drabble #19…**

"… _You_ _ **do**_ _realize that using federal databases to look into me without probable cause is a direct violation of FBI policy and could result in you losing your badge? I mean, I guess you could say that you were doing it out of the blanket excuse of 'national security' but when it comes to me, the only security danger I can think of is the POTUS keeling over in the Oval while choking the chicken to my Naughty Domestic Goddess portfolio…"_

_"He deserves better than some pole dancing, barely legal, foul mouthed little slut! He's a Grant man and…"_

_"If you know the truth about Grant men, then you know that I'm perfect for him. They absolutely_ **_adore_ ** _an intelligent, foul mouthed, big bootyed broad that can work a pole and I'm_ _**not** _ _a slut. I've only been in one relationship other than Fitz and I don't have sex unless I'm in a relationship with a guy. And even if I_ _**was** _ _a slut, who gives a fuck?_ _**It's my body and I can do whoever and whatever I damned well please with it.** _ _**Get over it and yourself** _ _…"_

_"_ **_Livvie_ ** _…"_

_"If she had gotten too crazy, I would've read you in. She was just a minor annoyance and she didn't do anything to hurt me. Of course, she called me a couple of the usual nasty names but that's nothing I haven't heard while I'm out and about, especially when I'm on campus. Usually they come from "enlightened" black men who see my work as my singlehandedly setting black people back 50 years but occasionally, there will be an under the covers racist. Those come in all shapes and sizes."_

_"Under the covers racist?"_

_"They hate black people, black women specifically but if they had the chance, they'd fuck one just to say that they did it and they're not racist because they did it. Not to mention, they all have that one black friend that doesn't get offended about every little thing they say and do. We just all need to stop playing the race card blame game and evolve into a post racial utopia. Then, we shall have peace and harmony in America and on earth."_

_"That's…"_

_"…_ _**bullshit** _ _but it is what it is. Fitz, as long as there's racial and cultural diversity, there's going to be ignorance and outright stupidity on some people's parts. The best things to do is to not let it get you down and to shut it down whenever possible…"_

_"…what do you need, Cy?"_

_"I heard that Ms. Pope was in the building and I need to talk to her."_

_"Talk to me about what?"_

_"A job offer."_

* * *

 

**Two Months Later…**

"M-may I join you, Olivia?"

"Sure. Russell, right?"

"Yeah. It's actually Franklin but I go by Russell. It's my middle name and I like it better. Franklin sounds like an old man's name, you know?"

"Not really. It's more dignified than old-timey. My lover's name is  _ **Fitzgerald**_ , of all things. I know it's a family name but really, they should've just named him Egbert or 'Kick my Ass' and been done with it. He's lucky that he's the spawn of the Nephilim and brilliant or I'm sure that he wouldn't have made it to high school with all of his original equipment."

"He's a lucky man to have you. I mean, not  _ **have**_  you. You're a woman, not an object. What I meant was…I just…look, can we start over before I drown in a simmering stew of my own awkwardness?"

"Trust me, compared to some people I've met at shoots and while on stage, you're doing just fine. What brings you here at this hour?"

"Senioritis…plus, I wasn't in the mood to sit through the review slides for bio. I already know what I need to know for the final exam and even if I bomb it, I'll still pass with a B. What about you?"

"I'm starting my new gig tomorrow and I wanted to spend the day getting ready for it."

"I heard about that. You've got a job with the FBI."

"Yeah. I'm not an agent. I'm a civilian consultant and trainer for their Vice division. Basically, I'm teaching bureaucrats how to think like the scumbags they're chasing after and training mainly women to dance and talk well enough to blend into the Clubs. The pay's enough so I don't have do anymore modeling or dancing unless I want to, they've got kickass dental, and I got it in writing that the Big Giant Heads won't shit on Fitz professionally just because he happens to be getting his ashes hauled by the Legendary Orchid the Naughty Schoolgirl AKA the Sultry Pinup Known as Tiger Lilly."

"They'd do that to him?"

"In half a heartbeat. For all the talk of America being the Land of the Free and progressive, once a woman, especially a Woman of Color takes control of her sexuality and has no shame about it, people get uncomfortable and revert back to the Puritanical, scarlet letter giving days of old. They know that I don't give a fuck about what they think of me but Fitz still does. He's protective of me and he'd give up any chance for the leadership positions he deserves by punching some jowl mouthed wheezing old fart in the throat for disrespecting me. I can't stop him from doing it but I can give him a safety net."

"You really love him, don't you?"

"Very much so… _ **oh**_ …oh, shit…Russell, I'm sorry…"

"No, don't be. Don't ever apologize for being in love and happy. Everyone deserves that and I figured out and accepted that you were out of my league by the end of first year of Undergrad. I'm just glad that I was able to muster up the balls to actually talk to you before graduation."

24 year old Olivia Pope smiled gently at the young man across from her before taking her leave. It was a beautiful day and it would be good for sitting by the Reflecting Pool. Russell…in another life, in another time, Olivia was sure that she would've been interested in him. Russell was known to be intelligent, sweet, and while he was slightly lacking in his size downstairs (just because she didn't have any close friends on campus or when she briefly lived in a dorm didn't mean she was out of the Loop…), he more than made up for it in enthusiasm and a willingness to use what he had to make sure his partner was satisfied. If her financial aid had stayed steady, if she hadn't moved off campus, if she hadn't earned her naughty girl  _ **Reputation**_ , if she had never met Fitzgerald Grant III…well, Russell was a nice "could've been" but Olivia was very happy with her reality.

Not only had taking the job as a Stripper/Lingerie model put her in Fitz's orbit and in fine financial straits (without any Papa Pope puppet strings), it had shot any chance of her doing anything political after college right to hell, which is exactly what she had wanted. Officially, her father worked for the Smithsonian but anyone who was really legit in the Political Arena knew that Eli Pope (AKA Rowan) was the Gatekeeper. If he liked you, you were Golden and your opponents would be put out of commission one way or the other. If he didn't like you, you were fucked. Whether it was a physical bad fucking or the fucking that ruined reputations through at least 2 reincarnations depended on just how much the man didn't like you. All of her life, Olivia had been groomed by him to be a part of the Political Arena, part of the Machine, and while she enjoyed the Game (after all, she  _ **was**_  majoring in Poli-Sci), she did not want to play it.

There had been many a stalemated argument between her and Eli on the matter. Neither was willing to budge on their positions so it was better to agree to disagree. The agreeing to disagree could get loud and quite ugly before going cold and sullen but still…they agreed to disagree.

Anything that had her being the opposite of her father, her mother endorsed fully, even if it was a little dicey. It couldn't be outright illegal but as long as she graduated on time and ended up with some sort of steady career, Maya Lewis would stay in her lane when it came to Olivia's life decisions.

Besides, she was much too busy with her besotted common law husband/willing love slave Dominic Bell to concern herself with such trivial matters for more than a few minutes. She'd let her daughter and her ex husband duke it out until the cows came home. The duking was their way of bonding, anyway.

Still, when her new job became common knowledge, both of her parents had nearly blown out her eardrums with their displeasure. Of course,  _ **how**_ they found out could've been a factor. Her first 'Naughty Girl' soldiers only chair dance routine had gone viral, thanks to the glorious tipping awestruck pack of Marines that had come into The Coliseum and the video had spread like a brushfire. Crazy Maya Lewis and The Great Eli/Rowan Pope's daughter was a skilled stripper, a dime a dance go-go girl, a dirty little  _ **whore**_ …at least in their judging eyes she was the last one by default.

It was karmic irony at its finest: the Gatekeeper, the Judge, Jury, and Executioner of everyone else's only precious daughter was openly getting down and dirty for her pocket money. The man who spent so much monologuing about how a man's place was to take care of their families had a daughter didn't trust him to do it properly. And of all the jobs Olivia could've gotten with her brilliant mind, she  _ **chose**_  to strip and  _ **obviously**_  enjoyed it! Look at how well she danced! Looked at how she smiled at her eager captives! She wasn't just a go-go dancer! She was a  _ **star!**_

She was a legen…wait for it… _ **dary star!**_

Olivia was the hottest gossip at the table from the Hill to the churches in the predominantly black neighborhoods less than a mile away from 1600 Penn. Many a cell phone had been confiscated from many a horny adolescent marveling at her performance, not to mention some of the big shots in the political area. It was rumored that the POTUS himself had seen the footage and loved it…

It was  _ **unseemly!**_

It was  _ **feminism**_  at its finest!

It was  _ **scandalous!**_

It was  _ **awesome!**_

It was fucking  _ **hilarious!**_

It was  _ **disgusting**_!

Opinions varied across the board, through all the tax brackets, through all races…

Edison Davis had certainly championed the negative opinions. He had come to her apartment in a livid, jealous rage halfway through her trial period and forbade her from ever going back to the Club. What kind of self respecting woman did such things? Didn't she care about how it made her look? Didn't she care how it made  _ **him**_  look? He was trying to  _ **be**_  someone in D.C., trying to be the first black POTUS down the line and he couldn't very well have his woman prancing around in 8 inch heels and sparkle pasties to pay her bills.

She had corrected him on three things as she calmly counted her night's haul of 850 dollars.

Three, on the rare times she wore them, her pasties didn't sparkle, they were neon pink and were shaped like daisies, covering her nipples perfectly.

Two, her heels maxed out at 6 inches and she didn't prance, she strutted. There was a difference.

One, she wasn't his woman, anymore. She wasn't his woman, anymore and she'd never be his woman again so how any of  _ **her**_ life choices made  _ **him**_ look was of no consequence to her.

Also, she may look questionable but not only had she made enough cash to cover her looming tuition payment by the end of her first week, she was already halfway to the next month's plus her living expenses. She had a naughty  _ **Reputation**_ now but she also had security.

Losing Edison and being side-eyed from irrelevant people was a small price to pay for that security.

She would keep on dancing and she would do whatever the hell else that she wanted to do.

It was her life to live and she was quite content with it.

Anyone who had a problem with it would just have to swallow it whole and take it dry.

And to accent that last statement, not only did she take the full time position at The Coliseum, she branched out into her modeling. At first, it was amateur work, just pictures and selfies taken in her apartment with professional grade cameras (her high school graduation gifts from Dominic Bell) in her own lingerie but when she made a blog about it, she had landed an interview with  _ **Satin**_   _ **Delite**_ , the flagship company that housed the Bethany Whisper Line. No one remembered the original name of the lingerie Line but the blonde bombshell (a sweet but more than a little spastic medical student named Isobel "Izzie" Stevens) had been so successful for the Line, her modeling name had become the product's name. Olivia truly hoped that the woman had gotten some extra cash for it. Every cent counted,  _ **especially**_  when it came to paying for med school.

One month after acing the interview, Olivia had made her debut just in time for Spring. The shoot had been in a private greenhouse about 30 minutes outside of D.C. and her lingerie had been lace, sheer, and shades of vivid green. There had also been butterflies and hummingbirds. The main picture, the best picture from that shoot involved her in her knees an outdoor claw foot tub, her hands braced on the sides. Her negligee had been mint green, her lace tanga had been snow white, and the warm water had been filled with tiger lily blooms and petals. The fabrics had stuck to her like glue, outlining all of her curves, planes, and shadows. Her wet hair had curled and become wild from the humidity and the expression on her face had been one that the photographer had called "sensual, classical bliss". She had used her real name for that shoot but social media and her Line had dubbed her 'Queen Tiger Lily'. Olivia had dropped the Queen and kept the moniker, leading to more shoots, a standing guest slot at  _ **La Perla**_  and where she was now: a teacher. Of all the careers she had contemplated going into, teaching had never come up in the cards, especially in her "field of expertise"…and for the Feds, of all people! Here she was, a stripping, frilly underthings modeling young black woman about to step in the J. Edgar Hoover building itself not as a suspect or witness but as a teacher!

Life sure could be hilarious sometimes.

Tomorrow night would certainly be interesting…

_**/** _

"She only got the job because she's screwing Grant. I mean, what can  _ **she**_ really teach us that the Academy didn't?"

"Her expertise and bravery helped collapse one of the biggest Pill Factories in the Tri-State area and have you seen her instructional videos? Her performances are something but her tutorials, the workouts…it takes real talent, Agent Vaughn. Plus, everyone knows that you've been trying and failing to get into SSA Grant's pants for years. If you can't pull yourself together enough to be professional, then you need to get out of here and make room for someone who can. Clear?"

"Crystal clear, Director Beene. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you really are. They're all yours for 2 hours, Ms. Pope. Let me know if you have problems."

"It'll be okay. We're all mature adults here…mostly."

Although others in the main gym were less than charitable about hiding their amusement at the cheerfully thrown shade, Fitz confined himself to a small smirk. A dozen female agents, unfortunately including Mellie, stood next to the installed brass poles, watching as Olivia plugged in her tablet. She would be instructing them from a raised, reinforced platform and a headset ala a spinning teacher was on her head, the small mic up and away from her mouth. Her hair was in a messy updo and she had on a short sleeved black curve hugging cotton bodysuit. White lace arm warmers matched the large ribbon bows she had used for her ponytails and her nails were the same matte crimson as her lips. Her strong thighs were bare and her look was finished by a pair of over the knee 4 inch heeled suede boots screaming 'fuck me hard'. The look she shot him after her greeting hug earlier screamed 'fuck me hard, Fitz' and he had every intention of hearing her scream that command by the end of the night at least twice…

" **All right… can everybody hear me? Is this thing on?** "

Nods from her students and cheers from the watching Agents and employees.

A giggle and then, " **Wonderful. As my nicely laminated new badge reads, I'm Olivia Pope and I'm here to teach you ladies how to not only work the pole but how to not break your neck, die, or blow your cover whilst doing it. There are only 3 rules here: Respect each other, respect me, and have fun. Let's get started.** "

_**/** _

**One Hour and 50 Minutes Later…**

Up until now, Olivia never really enjoyed her exotic dancing.

Okay, that wasn't entirely true. The financial independence, the figurative 'Up Yours' to Eli, and the sight of mostly intelligent men reduced to glaze eyed lust zombies because of her moves…it had been nice. The fact that it had landed her one of the best men in town certainly didn't hurt matters but still, Orchid had been created out of pure necessity, not out of a sense of joy for a craft or for physical fitness.

Right now, though? Watching as the baby faced tech agent named Quinn Perkins grinned with triumph as she spun slowly but steadily on her pole, watching as the ballsy redhead ballistics specialist named Abby Whelan smiled as she practiced her Strut, hell…even watching as Mellie steadily lost her snooty edge and giggled with a couple of other agents as they stood outside the locker room…it felt right. It felt  _ **good**_. She wasn't just using her skills and body to prove a point or to put ramen on the table, anymore. The women in her class right now weren't trophy housewives or desperate mistresses. They were FBI agents. They worked to protect the public and the Republic from those who seeked to damage or destroy. Olivia knew that it was highly unlikely that knowing how to move and speak in a Club would be the lynch pin to a major case (the Sting she had joined with Fitz had been an exception, not the rule) but still…she felt like she was doing something proactive, like she was a part of something bigger, something great…

Seeing that it was 7:55, Olivia pressed stop on her playlist and lowered her mic again.

" **Class dismissed, ladies. Fair warning, you're definitely going to be feeling pain in the morning. Arms, legs, core…head, shoulders, knees, and motherfucking toes. Hell, even your** _ **teeth**_ **are gonna hurt. It's normal and it'll lessen as you keep practicing. Use cold water to start with and then go warm so your muscles don't cramp up completely. If you don't have any already, get yourselves some Epsom salts, your favorite painkiller, chocolate, and your favorite booze. I also recommend you investing heavily in Dr. Scholl's for Her insoles. Speaking from someone who lives barefoot or in sky high heels, they're an absolute Godsend. Next session's in 2 days. Good job, everyone!** "

Once it became clear that it was an actual lesson and not a glorified mass strip tease, much of the watching crowd of mainly male agents had quickly dispersed but Fitz stayed, sitting in a folding chair by the platform. He had helped her descend and ascend to it during the lesson, his whole demeanor reverting to "Patrick's" AKA "The Gentleman". Looking back on it, Olivia had been drawn to him from the moment he stepped into The Coliseum for his Op. He moved with a fluid, matter of fact confidence, his head held high and he would look you in dead in the eye when you spoke to him. Since she had been the only girl on the floor at the time, she had approached him to figure out what he wanted, since he definitely wasn't a customer, and for the first time, his cerulean slate gaze seared her. There was desire in the gaze (after all, she was only in her lingerie) but when he spoke to her, he spoke to her like she was an equal with just a hint of the coddling that people tried to give her before they realized that she was of drinking age. Charlie had come out of his office to interview him cheerfully (a forced and frightened cheerfulness, as she now knew it to be) and when he referenced her as his 'best bitch', the look that Fitz had given him as he said that he didn't see any bitches around made Charlie pale with terror and Olivia smile behind her glass of mineral water.

She had started to fall for him right then and there…

He came up the platform stairs and Olivia peeked at him through her lashes as she packed up her gear, suppressing the urge to fan herself or to pounce on him right then and there. He was in the same navy suit pants and spit shone dress shoes that he had put on that morning but his jacket was gone. His crisp white dress shirt was unbuttoned to reveal the delicious hollow of his throat and a shadow of chest hair. His black tie was undone and what really slayed her were his black suspenders. With the suspenders, rumpled hair (with an errant Superman curl falling over his brow), and five o shadow on his cheeks, he looked just like an old school G-Man.

She had always loved watching those films and now, she had a real one and he wasn't older than dirt or dead like the gentlemen on TCM. He was real and modern and sophisticated and sweet and…her man was just so…  _ **fine**_. He was too fine for her own good, sometimes.

"I found a good pasta primavera recipe online a couple of days ago. Is that okay for dinner?"

"I'm not hungry for pasta primavera, Olivia."

"Then, what are you hungry for? We can pick it up on the way home."

"No, we can't."

"What do you mean we can't? What do you want to eat?"

"I want your pussy with you naked except your boots for dinner…and breakfast, too."

Olivia looked at him wide eyed at his filthy honesty and his answering face was utterly serene.

Okay, then.

_**/** _

**The Next Morning…**

"… _you_ _ **do**_ _realize that we're gonna have to get married eventually, don't you? I'm serious. I mean, can you really imagine yourself being able to be this comfortable and happy with someone else? I can't…_ "

Fitz pressed another open mouthed kiss to her sternum, licking up the remaining stickiness from the honey he had drizzled on her the night before after Round 4…or had it been 5? Olivia was currently resting bare skinned on the kitchen floor, looking adorably dazed and she still had those 'fuck me, Fitz' boots on. He was completely naked, also sticky from honey with scratches on his back, and he was pretty sure that there was a bite mark on the upper part of his left buttock. He'd have to check. It could either be a bite mark from their tickle fight turned playful wrestling match in their bed or it could just be a bruise from the sink pedestal in the master bath she had chased him into. She had pushed him against it and nearly sucked his life force out along with his climax through his cock. He was groggy. He was sore. He was hungry for food, now (he had been earlier but hunger for his Livvie outweighed it) and he couldn't really feel his legs.

Most importantly, he was happy. No, he was  _ **blissful**_.

Olivia Pope was his bliss.

"… _it doesn't have to be soon. I still have to graduate and I'm sure that you've got a couple of personal professional goals that you want to accomplish whilst helping to defend the Republic but…if I'm going to be anyone's wife, I'd like to be yours. I'd like you to be my husband. Is that okay with you?_ "

" _ **More**_ _than okay._ "

" _Really?_ "

" _Mm-hm._ "

" _ **Awesome**_ …"

Slowly, Fitz sat up on his knees and took her boots off one at a time, watching fondly as she yawned widely. Her hair hung in her face and he brushed it away gently, matching her smile, a smile that was brighter than the ascending sun filtering through the blinds.

He looked forward to seeing that smile for the rest of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

**CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #33-(Follow up to #11, 15, 19, & 24, Stripper Sting AU, Fitz, Olivia, Cyrus, Maya, OOC, mentioned past Pope Marriage and Maya/Dominic, established Olitz, ride or die, protective!FitzVader)**

******Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"** ** **

 

 

**Excerpt from Draftbook Drabbles #15 and #24:**

_"_ **_Maya!_ ** _"_

_"Eli, she's going to do whatever she damned well pleases anyway! It's the stupid pride she got from you and the goddamned stubbornness she got from me! There's no use in trying to control her because all that's going to do is shut her ears and she'll cut us out completely! Is that what you want? It's bad enough having to constantly explain that our daughter has so little faith in us that she willingly gets on a pole and half naked in front of a camera to pay her bills! Do you really want to explain to your minions and comrades why we're not at her wedding or why we only see our grandchildren through photographs?_ _**I** _ _don't…"_

" _Your mother seems like she's had an epiphany about her relationship with you."_

_"She_ _**did** _ _just turn 50 last September. Looking back and seeing a half century gone can cause anyone to become introspective and self aware. Maybe she's wanted to reconnect with me for a while and what happened at the Club was her opening. If she's still feeling like that after the dust settles completely, then I'll meet her halfway. Life's too short and fragile to hold on to resentment and really, if I'm going to have a viable relationship with a parent, it's likely going to be with Maya. The only thing that's going to pry Eli's head out of his ass is a stick of TNT…or a back alley lobotomy..."_

"… _you've got a job with the FBI."_

_"Yeah. I'm not an agent. I'm a civilian consultant and trainer for their Vice division. Basically, I'm teaching bureaucrats how to think like the scumbags they're chasing after and training mainly women to dance and talk well enough to blend into the Clubs. The pay's enough so I don't have do anymore modeling or dancing unless I want to, they've got kickass dental, and I got it in writing that the Big Giant Heads won't shit on Fitz professionally just because he happens to be getting his ashes hauled by the Legendary Orchid the Naughty Schoolgirl AKA the Sultry Pinup Known as Tiger Lilly."_

_"They'd do that to him?"_

_"In half a heartbeat. For all the talk of America being the Land of the Free and progressive, once a woman, especially a Woman of Color takes control of her sexuality and has no shame about it, people get uncomfortable and revert back to the Puritanical, scarlet letter giving days of old. They know that I don't give a fuck about what they think of me but Fitz still does. He's protective of me and he'd give up any chance for the leadership positions he deserves by punching some jowl mouthed wheezing old fart in the throat for disrespecting me. I can't stop him from doing it but I can give him a safety net."_

_"You really love him, don't you?"_

_"Very much so…"_

_Of all the careers she had contemplated going into, teaching had never come up in the cards, especially in her "field of expertise"…and for the_ _**Feds** _ _, of all people! Here she was, a stripping, frilly underthings modeling young black woman about to step in the J. Edgar Hoover building itself not as a suspect or witness but as a_ _**teacher!** _

_Life sure could be hilarious sometimes…_

* * *

**6 Months Later…**

" _Have you talked to your father since your graduation party?"_

"A little bit on the phone. He's still raw about my professional and personal decisions and I'm still not sorry for them so we stick with safe small talk so neither of us ends up yelling."

" _God, that man will_ _ **never**_ _change…"_

"I don't know why you keep expecting him to, Mom."

" _He's a smart man and really, there's good in him. I wouldn't have married him and had you if there wasn't. I just want better for him, that's all. Hubris and stubbornness keep him from being happy. I just want him to be happy…"_

"Momma, do you still love him?"

" _Of_ _ **course**_ _I do but I don't want to be with him, anymore. I'm with Dominic and he's who I'm supposed to be with, who I'm at my best with. Eli is…_ _ **Eli.**_ _And even if he did a complete 180 in his Ways, I wouldn't go back to him. There's too much pain and too little trust between us. Do you understand?"_

"Yeah…he still doesn't like Fitz. I don't think he ever will."

" _Of_ _ **course**_ _he doesn't like him and it's his loss. He doesn't like Fitzgerald because he can't control him, manipulate him, label him neatly, and he has made it abundantly clear that he doesn't give a damn about seeking his approval. The only Pope opinion that matters to that man is yours and he is a man. I can't stand how Eli keeps referring to him as a boy. He's a grown ass man with a sound mind, a steady job, and he genuinely loves you. What more could he ask for?"_

"A submissive wife that would put up with his shit to the grave without even considering another man of another race and a perfect politically minded daughter who fell in love with a perfect politically minded black man and had no idea what a dancer's pole looked like, much less how to use it?"

" _Yeah, well he got us so he'll have to sue the 3 Fates for emotional distress!"_

The ludicrous image of her enraged father monologuing in front of an indifferent Clothos, Lachesis, and Atropos had 24 year old Olivia Pope grinning as her mother laughed on the other end of the phone call. Her grin became chortles at the image of the third Moirai eventually using her dreaded shears to cut his life thread just to shut him up. Of course, there would be a death match between him and Hades for control of the Underworld afterwards and it was a testament to Eli's character that Olivia thought that Hades wouldn't stand a fucking chance.

Although there was still some strain, Olivia's relationship with her mother had improved tremendously since she got tangled up in The Coliseum sting nearly two years ago. The strain between her and Maya Lewis came from feeling forgotten about in the wake of her new life with Dominic Bell. Olivia had felt like an unpleasant reminder of the past to her mother and in response, she had kept her distance. The truth of the matter was that Maya had felt awful for moving forward and essentially abandoning her. She hadn't wanted to. She had fought tooth and nail during the custody melees but Eli had gotten his way with the Courts, with public opinion…she hadn't wanted to leave her behind. Maya just felt like it was the only way that she would able to heal and to have peace again. Olivia hadn't understood it as a child and even a year ago but now, she did.

It was amazing what sitting down and communicating like mature adults could accomplish.

She had her Momma back.

Sadly, the same couldn't be said about her father. Actually, the strain between her and Eli Pope had worsened. They were civil but her father just couldn't get over himself or her choices. He had high expectations of her, so many big plans for her, and she refused to go along with them, even "for her own good". He had wanted her to be a professor, a Chief of Staff, a Director of Communications, a POTUS...he wanted her to achieve political and social greatness so he could feel like she earned the privilege of him being proud of her.

She had chosen poli-sci and law like he wanted but she refused to use it for politics. She had chosen to strip dance. She had chosen to model lingerie. She had chosen to work with law enforcement. She had chosen to remain in a romantic relationship with Special Agent Fitzgerald 'Fitz' Grant III and she just didn't care about his opinions, anymore.

The fact she genuinely didn't care anymore confused and irked him to no end.

She had cared in the past, even if she was defying him but now, Olivia just saw him as a flawed, lonely and sometimes very hateful old man that just happened to be her father. She had love for him and she would care if something bad happened to him but he wasn't the center of the universe or a Big Bad Wolf. He was just Eli or Rowan, depending on who you talked to.

He wasn't a demigod or untouchable. He was just a man and seeing him as just a man allowed Olivia perspective and peace with the situation.

It was what it was…

"Momma, I've got another call coming in. Are we still on for Saturday?"

" _We are. Dom's making Indian food so make sure to bring your appetite, Fitzgerald, and some antacids. Oh, and a bottle of white wine. We have the red. Du Bellay '89."_

"I will. Bye, Momma."

" _Bye, Baby Girl. Be safe."_

Switching over to the line, she answered, "This is Olivia Pope."

" _Olivia?_ "

"Hi, Cyrus. What can I do for you? Have my lessons been rescheduled again?"

" _No. I need you to come down to the Hoover building immediately. There was an altercation between Fitz and another agent and he's refusing to talk to anyone, not even his union rep. The other agent is in the infirmary and may need to be transferred to a hospital. He's talking about pressing charges and if I can't get Fitz's motives for going after him, at best he'll be suspended. At worst…"_

"I'm on the way."

_**/** _

"… _can only imagine what she's like in the sack. You know how strippers are and she was one of the best in the damned region. People still talk about her routines and her lessons here…Grant's a lucky fucker. That mouth alone…she's got those big pink lips, made for being wrapped around a man's cock and that ass of hers…"_

" _Look, man, you can't be talking about her like that, especially around here. Olivia's more than a piece of ass and if Fitz hears you, you won't see anything but a stack of triplicate for at least a month. Don't get me wrong, he's a damned good at the job. He's earned his place as Lead Agent tenfold but he's also the Director's Golden Boy. Word is that he's first in line to take over once Beene has his inevitable heart attack and is forced to retire…"_

" _Yeah, but that was before he decided to be balls deep in a real relationship with Orchid the Schoolgirl and Queen Tiger Lily. Any chance of him getting promoted went up in smoke after that. Have you ever looked up some of her work? Not the pretty little YouTube tutorials or her lessons here but the real shit, her performances and photoshoots? Oh-ho…you're blushing. Oh, kid, you are_ _ **precious**_ _…I bet the sight of all that chocolate satin put some hair on your balls, huh?"_

" _Hal had an old catalogue of hers in the locker room. He said he was looking for anniversary gift ideas for his girlfriend but…look, can we talk about something else? She's beautiful but she's still a person. She's not just a walking blow up doll and she's…"_

"… _a glorified cock tease and who's to say that she doesn't like the attention? Hell, she's probably banging at least 3 other guys than Grant. That Boy Scout won't know what to do with a bitch like that forever and I'm waiting for my opening to…"_

The sound of the interrogation room turned holding cell door opening broke 33 year old Special Agent in Charge Fitzgerald 'Fitz' Grant III out of his reverie and the familiar cadence of stiletto heels made him sigh heavily. Of course, Cyrus had called her. She was his emergency contact and his power of attorney. He knew that he would have to face her eventually but he wasn't ready to. He was upset with himself and he was certain that once he told her the dirty details, she'd be just as upset, if not more.

He was head was lowered, his skinned and swollen red knuckles resting on the steel table. His black suit jacket was draped over the back of the chair he was sitting in. His black suspenders were lowered and his white dress shirt was open, stained with sweat and blood, as was his open plum purple tie, the tie that she had bought him.

There were handcuffs on his wrists and he could feel people in the observation area watching him, waiting for him to react. He had been quiet during the altercation, letting his fists, knees, feet, and elbows do the talking. He had gotten a glimpse of his face as he was hustled out of sight. It was and still was utterly placid. He hadn't yelled and while he could feel them pricking the back of his eyes, Fitz had yet to shed a tear.

The avenging rage that had fueled his actions against Special Agent Edward 'Eddie' Nicoletti was still there, along with the satisfaction of knowing the bastard was still in severe pain but shame tempered with worry had crept in.

He had acted just like Big Jerry. After years of making sure to be his sperm donor's exact opposite, he had gone completely nuclear and made a spectacle of himself.

He was a grown man and he had acted like a high schooler, a frat boy with more balls than brains. He had put his job in danger and his reputation as a levelheaded man was tarnished from that day forward.

Most of all, he had taken on the 'Knight in Shining Armor' mantle without her blessings. Olivia Pope was no damsel in distress and she didn't need a hero. She wanted a partner, a companion, not a hero. She could slay her own dragons. She could conquer the whole world if she wanted to. She didn't need to be wrapped in bubble wrap, locked in a tower or to have a big strong man fight her battles for her. She was capable and brilliant and genuinely sweet and that stupid motherfucker had absolutely  _ **no**_  right to talk about her like that!

He had absolutely no right to talk about any woman like that, regardless of whatever line of work she engaged in! A woman had the right to do whatever and whoever she pleased, wherever and however she pleased without some ignorant, close minded piece of garbage demeaning them, hurting them, disrespecting them…

"Why is he handcuffed?"

"Ma'am, it's standard procedure to…"

"Give me the keys and get out."

"Ma'am…"

"I'm not just a ma'am, I'm a consultant for Vice. They wouldn't have given me the shiny laminated badge if I didn't know all the rules. You know him. You know that he would never hurt me. You also know me so you know that I would never let him lay a malicious hand on me without him losing it and his genitals afterwards. Give me the keys and get the fuck out.  **Now.** "

The door slammed in the wake of the departing agent (it sounded like Marcus Walker but he wasn't sure…) and Olivia sat on the edge of the table. She was in dark gray leggings and her favorite beige Timberland high heeled boots again, the ones that stopped just below her knees, this time with purple laces. When she wore those boots, she always matched the laces with her undergarments. The handcuffs were undone quickly and tossed into the far corner. Grabbing his wrists, she pressed soft kisses to them and his skinned knuckles before tapping him behind the ears. That was their non verbal request for air whilst kissing or in this case, a silent plea for eye contact. Slowly, Fitz obeyed her and he felt some of the tension in his body drain away as she hugged him. Leaning forward, he rested his cheek on her side and used his fingertips to trace one of the white dragonflies on her long sleeved black top.

"What'd he say about me?"

He shook his head.

"Fitz, I know Nicoletti from here and from The Coliseum. He's the walking equivalent of shower mildew and he's garbage. The only way he gets laid is if he goes for college barely legals or if he hits the Scene. I never did it but I know a lot of girls who would let anything with a badge at them. Well, technically I did but I didn't know for sure you were a Fed until the end of the Sting and I wanted you for you, not your badge and the money attached to it. Seriously, Nicoletti's a misogynist with a big nasty mouth, too much ego and a pencil dick and I'm not talking about those long thick pencils they give to Pre-K kids to help them learn how to write, either. He's like one of those mechanical pencils with the heads that fall out too much and are useless after a couple of strokes. What did he say about me? Did he call me a fame hungry whore? Did he make it sound like I was nothing but a piece of ass and a prick tease who wormed her way into the FBI's good graces? Did he call me a gold digger and a  **Pretty Woman**  reboot?"

"… _yes, he did._ "

"It's nothing that I haven't heard before."

"You shouldn't have to hear it at all! It's your life and your body and you should be able to do whatever you want without some piece of shit tearing you down. He doesn't know how brilliant you are, how kind you are…I'm sorry, Livvie. I know you can take care of yourself. I know that you don't need a hero. I just…I love you so much and when I heard what he said, I snapped."

"You beat him like he owed you 10 years of child support."

Before he could stop himself, Fitz laughed and he was finally able to meet her eyes. She had chosen liquid gold eye shadow and there was no anger, no censure. She understood and she actually looked…

"No one's ever stood up for me before. Not really. I've always had to take care of myself and that's cool but…it's nice to know that I've got back up, now."

"So, I'm not in trouble?"

She laughed and replied, "Not with me. It seems as though you're about to get a mini unpaid vacation and a couple of anger management sessions, though."

"That's okay. You're more than worth it."

She was worth everything and more to him.

"On the bright side, you've got some mad street cred, now. The Big Giant Heads may be pissed off at you but everyone else was glad to hear that you're human, too and that you'll stick up for your Girl. And Nicoletti's a jerk. If you hadn't beat his ass, somebody else would've done it eventually and The Brass knows it. You'll be all right in the end, Fitz."

"I'm all right, now."

He really was.


End file.
